The Inkslinger

There is an old Inkslinger in this world that is loved by more people than he may suspect. This fellow was the editor of the Buffalo Times Herald, my hometown newspaper, when I was growing up. He knew more than anyone else in town, worked harder and later at night than anyone other than my dad, who didn't consider either his blacksmithing or his oil painting 'work,' but after a day of smithing, he was at the easel past my bedtime and was at it again when I woke up. When I was really little, I thought he painted through the night. But I digress again.

The Inkslinger "Ramblings of a Newcomer" is a featured column in my present hometown news, The Nation's Center News. In the April 5, 2007 hometown paper and also in the Arco (Idaho) Advertiser of March 22, he writes of a St. Patrick's Day evening in my great uncle's sauna.

He writes in part: "The Inkslinger and many of the buddies along with a number of real Finnish old timers would take advantage of the 25¢ fee which included the sauna bath along with a fresh towel and a bar of soap for that special bath.

Gotta tell you, those old Finns could take the extreme heat of the sauna which was almost enough to “peel the hide off” most of us. The sauna was a two room building built specially for the purpose, one room housing the actual sauna, a big old wood burning furnace with a wash tub size container on top filled with rocks. The super-heated rocks would be doused with water with a garden hose and the steam would be so thick and hot that we non-Finns had a hard time breathing as we soaked and scrubbed and sat on the benches provided. The higher up the benches, about five or six rows, the hotter it was, even though folks traditionally think of going down to a “hot place.” Of course, not wishing to be seen as “tenderfeet” by these old timers, we young bucks would take our washing tools and go right to the top."

"...The full treatment at the sauna involved, after the steam bath, a cold shower and a cooling down period in the second, or cooling room, or for the old timers, a good old near naked roll in the snowbank within about a rod of the bathhouse. After the ritual cooldown, not in the snowbank, the Inkslinger and one buddy went out to the car, in a hurry to get to the house for the special supper, a little late already. Opening the car door was a surprise of surprises. The overheated buddy was asleep on the back seat and the heat that he generated against the cold of a heavy early spring snowstorm had frosted the windows and windshield so that the boys had to scrape peepholes in the frost to see to drive. Near a foot of snow had fallen during the time of the sauna bath..."

By no means was that the entire story; but it was very plausable as all of Uncle Matt's neighbors, who were also his sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews got in without the 25 cent admission and we got the soap free also. It might have been the lye soap my mother made regularly that could also take the hide off of a person.

I don't think the non-Finnish females of Buffalo, SD trooped to the sauna like the fellows did on a Saturday night. My own two older sons got a taste of it with the town guys when we visited their grandparents; and undoubtedly my kindly old great uncle showed them 'the ropes' of the proper way to sauna.

Thanks to that elderly loved Inkslinger for reminding me of an integral part of my past that made my life easier than taking out the old round tin tub for a bath.